


Vengeance is mine

by bubblesbromleigh



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Brotherly Love, Captivity, I'm Bad At Tagging, No Slash, Prison, Rescue, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7520078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubblesbromleigh/pseuds/bubblesbromleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The MacManus Brothers find themselves separated and having to fight for their survival and that of those closest to them when an enemy they never knew existed comes for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at a none Walking Dead work, I'm not sure what I'm doing or where this is going, just have a vague plot outline in my head. Please let me know what you think, any suggestions or advice are more than welcome.  
> Thanks for reading.  
> xx

Chapter 1

Murphy almost missed the scream as he slouched along the street, cursing the cold Boston rain that dripped down his collar, making him shiver. He cursed his brother Connor, picturing him sitting warm and dry in their shared apartment, feet up as he lounged on the lumpy couch, yelling at the TV as he watched some crappy daytime TV quiz. Mostly he cursed himself for once again letting Connor talk him into doing something he didn’t want to. He didn’t even want the damn snacks his sibling had sent him out to buy from the convenience store five blocks from home and it wasn’t even his turn to do the daily shopping trip. He swore again as he realised the cigarette clamped between his lips had gone out once more. Annoyed he hurled it to one side, just as a brief movement ahead caught his eye.  
A man dressed in dark clothes stepped out of the mouth of an alleyway; he saw Murphy and ducked back out of sight, at once rousing the young Irishman’s interest.  
“Now what could you be trying to hide, I wonder” he thought to himself, reaching under his coat, reassuring himself his gun was still tucked into his waistband. It was then he thought he heard the muffled scream. At once he picked up his pace, pulling his silenced gun as he reached the entrance to the dark alley.  
Two men were struggling with a woman, trying to pin her against the side of a filthy dumpster as she fought desperately. As he approached Murphy could see her straight skirt was ripped from the hem almost to the waistband. A fat, greasy looking man was mauling at her exposed thigh as she tried to fight him off. The second, smaller man grabbed the front of her blouse and tore it open, exposing her bra and bare stomach, his hand reaching for her breasts.  
“Hey, assholes!” Murphy yelled “You might want to step away from the lady”  
“Don’t think so” the bigger man commented as his hand continued to slide under the torn shirt, moving up the woman’s leg. She turned her tear stained face to Murphy, and he couldn’t help but notice her startling green eyes as she implored him to help her.  
“Please” she begged as she tried to push both men away from her.  
“Best you just piss off and pretend you didn’t see anything” the smaller man sneered as he pawed the struggling woman.  
Without bothering to reply Murphy raised his gun and shot him straight through the head. The woman gave a squeak of shock and the fat man jumped away from her, hands raised, a look of terror etched on his face.  
“Please don’t shoot” he begged “We was just gonna have a bit of fun, weren’t gonna hurt her”  
“I’m sure the lady didn’t think it was fun” Coldly Murphy pulled the trigger for a second time and the man dropped next to his companion.  
“You okay love?” Murphy lowered the gun, moving closer to the terrified, shaking woman. He’d barely taken three steps when a weight barrelled into him. He lost his grip on the gun as he fell, the third man pinning him to the wet pavement, his arm wrapping tightly round Murphey’s neck, forcing his head back and cutting off his airway.  
He bucked and twisted, trying to get the man off his back but he was heavy and strong. He choked, gasping for breath as the man’s vice like grip tightened. His vision was starting to go black when suddenly the weight was gone and he could breathe again. Rolling onto his back, drawing in great gulps of air, he saw man that had attacked him face down, blood pooling from a wound in the back of his neck.  
A shadow fell over him and he looked up to see the woman standing at his side. She clutched a bloody knife in both hands, her eyes wide as she stared down at him. Her ripped blouse hung open and he could see splashes of blood on her exposed stomach, several more on the lacy white bra he couldn’t help but notice. Her hair had fallen loose from the clip held it in place and now tumbled down her back in a wild, wet glorious mess. He noticed it was a stunning shade of red that somehow went perfectly with her green eyes and made him think of the Irish girls back home. He found he couldn’t stop staring at the sight above him. Knife gripped in front of her, rain soaked and bloody, half naked and trembling, her long, shapely leg almost fully exposed he found only one word coming to mind.  
“Magnificent”  
He had no idea where it came from but it was the only one that seemed appropriate and he was suddenly glad Connor had talked him into being the one to go to the store.  
The knife suddenly fell from her unresisting hands and the clatter it made as it hit the floor pulled him out of his trance. He scrambled to his feet, pulling his coat off and wrapping round the woman’s shoulders, feeling her body shake as she leant into him.  
“I killed him” she mumbled “I killed that man” her eyes filled with tears and she buried her head into his chest, her hands grasping at his sweater, clinging to him desperately. Murphey stiffened, unsure what to do, finally settling for patting her awkwardly on the back a couple of times before gently pushing her away.  
“We need to clear up here, before somebody comes along and sees this mess” he told her as he recovered his gun, tucking back into his waistband, pulling his sweater over it.  
“Where’d you get the knife?” he asked as he picked it up, wiping the handle on the corpse’s shirt.  
She sniffed, swiping her eyes with the back of her hand as she appeared to pull herself together.  
“It was his” she indicated the bigger of the two men that had attacked her “he used it to cut my skirt” absently she pulled at the fabric trying to pull the edges together as her eyes drifted to the man she had killed. He saw the tears start again.  
“We should call the police” she started “I need to hand myself in”  
“No” Murphy’s voice was firm as he gripped her arms forcing her to look at him.  
“These men were rapists, they might have even killed you after to stop you IDing them. The man you killed was going to kill me. You saved me. You don’t need to lose any sleep over these scum. They don’t deserve to live, they certainly don’t deserve you to wreck your life because of them” He released her arms and moved away, double checking there was no trace the two of them had ever been there.  
“Come on” he took her arm again, this time gently. “Let’s get you home, a hot bath and a good nights sleep, you’ll be fine”  
With a final glance behind her she allowed him to lead her out of the alleyway, where he waited for her to point him in the right direction for her home.  
“Name’s Murphy by the way” he told her “What’s yours?”  
“Erin” she told him and he couldn’t help the smile.  
“Course it is, with hair and eyes like that it had to be a good old Irish name” he joked  
She returned the smile.  
“On my mother’s side, my father was Italian” she told him. Her building was only a few blocks away and it wasn’t long before she was unlocking the door to her apartment.  
They both hesitated on the doorstep, both suddenly nervous.  
“Will you come in and have a drink with me” she asked, not looking at him “It seems the least I could do after what you did for me” He briefly thought of Connor sitting at home and waiting for him, worrying and wondering where he was but then she moved slightly and he got another glimpse of creamy soft thigh and found himself thinking to hell with his brother.  
“I’d like that very much” he told her as he followed her into a small but tasteful room. Erin nodded to a small table in the corner.  
“There’s whiskey and glasses over there. Help yourself while I go clean up and change” She headed for a door on the far side of the room, stopping in the doorway.  
“Pour one for me as well please” she asked “I don’t normally drink whiskey but I think I need one today” She closed the door behind her and a few moments later he heard the sound of running water.  
Murphy tried and failed to push the thoughts of Erin in the shower out of his mind as he cracked open the seal on the only bottle of whiskey on the table. He poured himself a generous measure and swigged it back quickly before refilling his glass and pouring a second glassful for Erin.  
He wandered around the small apartment, sipping his second drink as he waited for her to return. He flipped through her music collection, cringing at her choice of 80’s pop music albums before moving to the bookcase, surprised to see several books on organised crime and the Mafia nestled among the mainstream fiction novels.  
He began to feel a little light headed so he moved to the couch and sank down onto the plump cushions. His eyes felt heavy and he wondered if he’d smacked his head when the heavy man had knocked him down in the alleyway.  
Murphey was fighting to keep his eyes open when he heard the door open and Erin came back into the room, now wearing skinny jeans and a crisp white shirt. She moved to stand in front of the couch, her hands on her denim covered hips as she gazed impassively down at him.  
“I guess you’re feeling a little weird right about now aren’t you? Dizzy maybe, a little sick and like all you want to do is sleep. Am I right?” she asked.  
Confused all he could do was stare back. Through rapidly failing vision he saw brunette hair instead of red and angry brown eyes not striking green.  
“Who… ?” he managed before words failed him once more.  
“My mother was pure American through and through” she told him “Her name was Anita and she was beautiful. My father fell for her, he couldn’t resist her even though he was already married and had a family. She tried to fight it but she loved him too much. They only ever spent one night together and I was the result. Even though he could never acknowledge me publicly he made sure I wanted for nothing. He loved us both right up until his death” her voice trailed off and she moved closer. Murphy was aware of her hand gripping his jaw and pulling his head up but could do nothing about it as he fought to stay awake.  
“My name isn’t Erin it’s Angelina. My father used to call me his Angel; it was his nickname for me”  
As Murphey drifted into unconsciousness he heard her final words and felt the chill slip down his spine.  
“You probably know my father best by his nickname, I’m sure you remember him. His name was Pappa Joe and you, your brother and your father murdered him in the courthouse, right in front of me and my mother”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor anxiously waits for Murphy to return not knowing what is in store for him. He begins to realise that not all Angels are good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all those who read the first chapter and extra big thanks to those who left kudos and commented.

Chapter 2  
Connor paced the small apartment, his mood switching between anger and concern, back to anger again. Murphy had been gone far too long for a simple trip to the store. They usually took it in turns to make the daily trip for cigarettes, booze and whatever they felt like eating that night. Today had been his turn, but he’d taken one look at the rain and spent the next fifteen minutes convincing his brother to go instead. He knew he was pushing it when, as Murphy was stalking out the door, he put in his request for the stupid pack of Twinkies. He knew it would piss off his volatile sibling and he hadn’t been wrong. Murphy had cursed up a storm then slammed out of the small apartment, leaving Connor sniggering as he finished off his beer, warm and dry, feeling very pleased with himself.  
That had been almost two hours ago and there was still no sign of him. Connor had used the payphone in the apartment buildings lobby to call Doc at the bar, half expecting to hear Murphy was there, sulking in the way only he could as he downed a few shots of whiskey, complaining about what an asshole his brother was to anyone who’d listen. Doc had assured him he’d not seen him since the night before, when’d they’d both spent the evening there, drinking, brawling and trying to pick up a couple of society girls, who inadvertently strayed into McGinty’s. It hadn’t taken the brothers long to realise the already half drunken girls had mistaken it for the far more trendy McGinns, a new cocktail bar several blocks away. The evening had ended with the boy’s gallantly escorting the grateful women to the right place, leaving them with their equally drunken friends before making their way home alone, both bemoaning the fact that their mother had bought them up to be gentlemen.  
The sound of sirens pulled Connor to the grimy window overlooking the street in time to see two police cruisers speed by in the direction he knew Murphey would have taken. A sick feeling settled into the pit of his stomach and he dragged his coat on, snatching his gun from the table and tucking it into his waistband, making sure it was hidden by the long jacket.  
He’d barely taken two steps towards the door when it was slammed open and several armed police officers flooded the room, all screaming at him not to move.  
He raised his hands and flashed his most charming smile, as he scanned the hard faces in front of him. The fact he recognised none of them worried him, it meant they were not from the local precinct and therefore less likely to be supporters of the Saints and their lethal form of justice.  
“What’s the problem Officers?” he asked calmly as they fanned around him, trapping him in place.  
“That sound like resisting arrest to you?” one of the officers asked with a grin as he reached for the holster clipped to his belt.  
“Sure does” replied another.  
Before Connor could move there was a bruising impact to his chest and a shocking pain radiated throughout his body. His muscles spasmed as he fell to the ground, suddenly unable to control his own body.  
“That never gets old does it?” The Officer that had tasered him laughed, as he placed a quick kick to Connor’s still twitching body. Two others dropped down and searched him, quickly finding the gun tucked under his coat.  
“Hell, look at that, now he’s trying to pull a gun on us” one of them commented and at once a second bolt of electricity pulsed through the prone man as he was tasered again, this time giving a yelp of pain.  
As he was hurled to his feet, trying to stand on unsteady legs Connor noticed a bulky man in a dark suit standing to one side, a smirk on his face. The man approached slowly until he was in Connor’s face.  
“And who might you be?” Connor managed, not convinced he wasn’t drooling down his chin.  
The man moved closer,  
“My name is Antonio Benedetti and I bring you a message from the Angel” he spoke softly.  
“I am to tell you that you will see your brother again, but you will never again be with him. You are to know that the last days of each of your lives will be living hell. You will know what happens to each other and be unable to stop it. This…..” Antonio paused and indicated the police officers gathered around.  
“This is just the beginning” he smiled and took a step back, carefully removing his expensive looking, tailored jacket and handing it to the nearest officer.  
“The Angel also requests I give you this” The blow to his face was violent and hard, his head snapping back and Connor was sure he heard the sound of his nose breaking, could feel the blood running down his face and dripping from his chin. He fought to stay conscious, already sagging in the grip of the two men holding him up.  
“Who the Hell is this Angel?” He managed “where’s Murph?”  
Antonio exchanged a look with the officer in charge, smiling softly.  
“You would think an Angel and a Saint together would be a good thing” he mused “but I fear your Murphy is going to find out that isn’t so”  
As his arms were forced behind him and cuffed and he was dragged from the apartment Connor heard the soft spoken Italian man’s parting words.  
“I think you should now be more concerned about your own wellbeing. Where you are going is not going to be as you Irish would say a walk in the park”  
Connor stumbled, muscles still trembling from the Taser shots, his legs buckled again and he almost fell. The men holding him cursed, yanking him roughly upright, pulling him along the corridor, past the elevator that had never worked in all the time the brothers had lived in the building. At the top of the emergency stairs the men exchanged grins before letting him go with a shove. Connor was unable to stop it as he tumbled down the concrete steps, landing in a heap on the landing, his cuffed hands twisted awkwardly behind him, his left wrist a blur of agony and he knew it was broken.  
He heard laughter as he was pulled to his feet.  
“Clumsy Irish bastard, maybe you should lay off the scotch”  
He knew what was coming when they reached the next flight but was just a helpless to stop it the second time and the two times after that before they finally reached the lobby. He was pushed through the door onto the street.  
Lights flashed and voices shouted and it was a second before he realised the street was full of people. Many where taking photos, their cameras flashing as they captured every moment of his agonised, limping walk and he saw at least three TV crews filming the scene. Slowly he made out individual voices from the chaos.  
“Murderer!”  
“Irish scum!”  
“Hope you and your brother rot in Hell”  
Eventually they reached an unmarked car, parked further from the entrance than necessary and he knew it was so he would be on show for as long as possible. The driver made a big deal of unlocking it and opening the rear door prolonging his exposure to the angry crowd. Eventually Connor was forced inside the vehicle, the doors were slammed shut and it slowly pulled away, taking him to God only knows where.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Murphy begins to realise just how much trouble the brothers are in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in updating, I've been having serious issues with my internet connection for the last week and struggling to post anything.  
> Thanks to those who kindly left kudos on the last chapter, I really appreciate it.  
> All conversation in italics are in Italian, I thought that was easier than iffy translation to Italian that then you then have to translate back.  
> If you have read the previous chapter you may notice that the Russian Anton Dorokhov has now become Italian Antonio Benedetti, that's because I'm an idiot that got my mafia's muddled up. Angelina is Guiseppe Yakavetta's daughter, head of an Italian mob family, therefore her protector would be Italian not Russian. As Homer Simpson would say D'oh!! Sorry about that.  
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, not the most exciting but setting the scene for what is to come.  
> Please comment, I'd love to hear your views.  
> Thanks for reading  
> xx

Chapter 3

Murphy twisted against the restraints holding him firmly to the chair, only succeeding in chafing the skin from his wrists, leaving them sore and bleeding. He cursed as he thrashed around in frustration, getting nowhere.

He’d come round a while ago, finding himself in a small, basement room, not unlike the one he’d ended up in with Connor and Rocco, the night Giuseppe Yakavetta, or Pappa Joe, had brutally murdered his friend, gunning him down at point blank range as all three sat helplessly tied to similar chairs. That was the night the twins finally met their father Noah, better known as the assassin Il Duce.  He’d been sent to kill them but overheard them reciting the family prayer over Rocco’s body, at once turning on those who’d paid him to kill the Saints of Boston, gunning them down where they stood to protect his boys.

Noah had returned to Ireland a few weeks earlier, planning to find a safe haven for himself and his sons before they joined him, settling back to their Irish roots and being a lot closer to their mother. She was  a bad tempered, heavy drinking, foul mouthed wonderful woman, who had worked hard to single handedly bring her twin boys up well, making sure they had a good education, insisting they learned several languages and  ensuring they knew how to use guns and knives to protect themselves. 

Murphy stopped struggling, instead glancing around the room for anything to help his escape. The darkened room was empty apart from a small camera mounted high on the wall, the flashing light letting him know it was on.

He sat there for what felt like hours, hungry, thirsty and dying for a cigarette, his anger building. Finally he heard a key turn and the door was pushed open.  Two men entered wheeling in a trolley with a large TV on it, a VCR perched on a shelf beneath the screen.  Ignoring him they fiddled around setting both machines up before exiting the room, leaving the door wide open.  A few moments passed before he heard footsteps, the click of high heels unmistakable.

Angelina appeared in the doorway, still in the same jeans and white shirt, high stiletto heeled boots now completing her outfit. She paused, leaning on the doorframe coldly studying her prisoner.

Murphy shrugged at her.

“What, this meant to be your idea of an intimidating entrance?” he scoffed “okay I’ll play along, you got me quaking in my boots, never been so scared in me life, that what you want to hear?”

A smile curled her lips as she pushed off from the door frame.

“I was just taking a moment to enjoy the sight of you so helpless and for all your smart comments you are at my mercy, you are still my captive”

She moved to the TV, flicking a switch, waiting for the screen to come to life before slipping a cassette tape into the VCR.

“I thought you might enjoy this” she smiled sweetly as an image appeared “I know I did”

Murphy’s eyes flicked to the screen and it took a few seconds for him to realise he was looking at a shaky, hand held camera shot of the hallway outside his and Connor’s apartment. Several men in police uniforms came into view and he found he couldn’t look away as he saw the door kicked open, saw the officers surround his brother and his attempt to talk to them.  He began to struggle anew when he saw his twin Tasered not once but twice, frantically trying to get free, to get to the woman in front of him.

“I love this bit” she laughed as she rewound the tape and he saw the large stranger’s fist smash into Connor’s face again, seeing the blood splatter as his nose was broken.

“It’s a pity there’s no sound, apparently he screamed like a little girl when Antonio hit him. I would have liked to hear that” she sighed

Tears of anger and frustration filled his eyes as he watched Connor, brutally shoved down several flights of stairs and dragged outside, unable to stand by himself and barely conscious as he was pulled through a clearly hostile crowd.

The scene switched from the hand held camera, moving now to a segment from a local news channel, a well know reporter speaking earnestly into her microphone.

Angelina pressed a button, increasing the volume and the reporter’s voice filled the room.

“Connor MacManus, one half of the infamous so called Saints of Boston was arrested today after a brief siege at his home. Officers at the scene say that MacManus violently resisted arrest and had to be forcibly subdued.  The MacManus brothers,  Connor and Murphy,  are wanted in regard to a string of brutal murders in Boston over the last few months, the most dramatic being that of alleged Mafia Crime Boss  Guiseppe Yakavetta six weeks ago as he prepared to stand trial. Court records recently released show that all evidence against Mr Yakavetta was circumstantial and it was more than likely he would have been found innocent of all charges”

The reporter paused as the camera panned around, showing a crowd of angry people and Murphy could hear some of the jeers being shouted at his brother.

“As you can see the people of Boson have had enough of this so called vigilante behaviour and the brother’s decision to play God, deciding who gets to live or die.

MacManus will be taken to an undisclosed precinct where he will be charged with several counts of first degree murder. The whereabouts of Murphy MacManus are unknown at this time but police say they have several leads and expect to apprehend him soon”

The reporter smiled sweetly at the camera as Angelina cut the tape.

“It’s amazing how a small amount of money in the right pockets will buy you an angry mob. A little more will buy you several corrupt police officers and a down payment on an apartment in a nice street in downtown Boston in the right catchment area will buy you the cooperation of a man with three children and no other way to get them into a decent school”  she smiled again.

“Find the right person and offer the right incentive and its impressive how quickly paperwork can go missing, how a person can get lost in the system”

Murphy flinched back as Angelina moved in front of him, raising her hand and running her thumb down his cheek.

“Connor won’t make it to any precinct” she said softly “due to an unfortunate clerical error he will go straight to general population at Hoag Penitentiary where he will be reacquainted with several of those you both helped to put there, and several more whose  friends or family members the two of you murdered”

She jumped back as Murphy lunged forward, desperately trying to get himself free, only succeeding in tipping the chair he was bound to over.

“You bitch!, so help me I’ll kill you if anything else happens to him” he snarled as he thrashed around, ripping more skin from his wrists as he tried to tear himself free.

At the crash made by his chair falling the man he’d seen on the tape punching Connor rushed into the room.

“It’s okay Antonio, he’s just watched the tape and is a little upset” Angelina  moved away as Antonio righted the chair,  aggressively tugging the rough ropes, making sure they were still tight before standing by the door, making it clear he had no intention of leaving.

“You know, I was actually expecting your brother tonight” Angelina leant on the wall, casually checking her immaculately manicured  nails.  “I thought it was his turn to go to the store”   She glanced across at him.

“Don’t get me wrong it makes no difference, my plan works either way, one of you here, one in jail” She sauntered over and smiled down at him.

“They are both so handsome aren’t they Antonio?” she asked the silent man, as she ran her hand gently through Murphy’s short hair.  

“If you say so, Angel, I don’t think I’m the best judge. A beautiful woman maybe, but a man, never” Antonio gave her an indulgent smile.

Suddenly her grip tightened in Murphey’s hair as she wrenched his head back, forcing him to look up at her.

“I’m sure you can imagine what happens to the pretty ones in jail. All it takes is for a guard’s attention to wander briefly, say to the extra cash in his pocket, and terrible things can happen.  I do hope that Connor is able to watch his back day and night.  It would be a dreadful thing if, perhaps, a group of other inmates were able to get unseen into his cell.  He would never be able to fight them all off and who knows what might happen”

She let go of Murphey and stepped back.

“At least there is a camera in his cell, you’ll be able to see exactly what happens to him, I’ll make sure if it”

Two large men appeared in the doorway, one holding a large black bag and the other eying Murphey. He turned to Antonio with a sneer, speaking rapidly in fluent Italian.

_“This little runt will be no fun, barely worth the effort of us coming here. Angelina could probably deal with him on her own”_

As they laughed Murphey bit his lip to keep back the retort, deciding to hold onto the fact he understand every word they were saying and he found himself thanking God for his Ma and her insistence that Italian was one of the languages the brothers learnt.

“ _He’ll be all yours very soon_ ” Angelina nodded to the two men  “ _I just need a couple more moments to speak to him”_

Murphey watched sullenly as Angelina crouched in front of him, her face now level with his as she leaned closer.

“You will become better acquainted with my companions Dante and Marzio very soon but first….” She smiled again, a cold, chilling smile that caused a ripple of fear to run through his body.

“…first we need to talk about your Mother”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who have left comments and kudos so far.  
> Once again all conversations in italics are spoken in Italian.

Chapter 4  
Former Special Agent Paul Smecker slammed the phone back down into its cradle, his frustration obvious as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair.  
“Nothing!” he ranted “It’s like they’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth. No one is admitting to authorising Connor’s arrest and no one has seen Murphy at all for the last two days”   
He kicked at the table as he paced the small room above the bar in McGinty’s, Detectives Greenly and Dolly stepping back to avoid the irate man.  
“We have to find those boy’s. Can you imagine what will happen if Noah finds out we lost them? He only left because we swore to look out for his sons”   
“He’ll tear the city apart” Dolly exchanged a worried look with Greenly “Then probably come after us”  
The three men jumped as the door opened and Doc entered, carrying a tray piled high with sandwiches and coffee as well as three shots of whiskey.  
“Any news?” he asked tiredly  
As Smecker shook his head Detective Duffy slammed into the room.  
“I found Connor” he yelled “It’s bad but I found him” He bent over, gasping to regain his breath from his frantic run up the stairs.  
“Care to enlighten us?” Smecker asked snidely, in no mood to wait.  
“Well I spent this morning asking around, talking to the boys on the streets, just to see if they’d heard anything at all, you know how cops like to gossip and then ……” Duffy started.  
“Get on with it!” Smecker snapped impatiently.  
Duffy shot him a hurt look and continued.  
“Turns out there’s a guy in District A-7, down in East Boston bragging about how he’s gonna go and put a payment down on an apartment in the suburbs. I got an Aunt lives out there and those places are well out of his pay grade so I went and had a chat with him”  
He gazed at the expectant faces around him.  
“After a bit of persuasion he said a guy approached him, offered him a lot of cash to tamper with some paperwork, change the prisoner details that sort of thing. Swears he didn’t know who it was until after and then it was too late. The guy’s having a chat with those nice people from Internal Affairs right now.”  
Duffy swallowed hard,  
“Bad news is Connor’s in Hoag, he’s been put in General population with all those assholes that think they owe him and his brother for putting them there. We’ve got to get him out real quick; I don’t think he’s got much time”  
Connor shifted uncomfortably on the narrow bunk in his cell, forcing himself to stay awake. He focused on the pain in his untreated broken wrist, the taste of the blood in his mouth from the various punches he’d received and the aches that radiated from every part of his body, especially his face and broken nose.   
He thought about the uncomfortable car ride that bought him to the high security penitentiary and the way the police officers escorting him had handed him over to a couple of burly prison guards without exchanging a word.  
Connor had never been in prison before and had no idea of the booking in procedures but he’d seen enough movies to be pretty sure what happened to him wasn’t the usual way it was done. He was sure the receiving guards didn’t usually take turns in throwing punches at the cuffed inmate before forcing them into the hideous orange jumpsuit then parading them through the rec room in full view of the other prisoners. They’d taken their time, making sure everyone could see him and a silence had fallen over the large open area as realisation set in at who was being marched through. The silence had only lasted a few moments and then the threats had started. Some of these threats were more inventive than others, some fairly obvious and others just downright sick and Connor knew that he would be lucky if he was killed outright, it seemed those he and his brother had helped put away were not a forgiving lot.  
He shifted again, not taking his eyes off the open cell door as he forced himself to think of anything but his brother. Not knowing what had happened to Murphy was worse than any beating he could receive. He knew all twins were meant to be close but he and Murphy had a bond that nothing could come between. He couldn’t remember the last time they had been apart for more than a couple of hours and even then they knew exactly where the other was.   
Murphy was headstrong, impatient and volatile, always rushing into situations without thinking first, always getting himself into trouble whereas Connor knew he was the sensible one, the one with the plan, the one that thought things through before reacting and somehow the two complimented each other, like two parts of a whole. Without his brother by his side Connor felt like a piece of him was missing.  
Movement at his cell door caught his attention and he saw three men staring silently at him. He was pretty sure he recognised them as enforcers for the Yakavetta family, vaguely remembering leaving them locked in the back of a van outside a police precinct, along with the evidence of their crime.   
After executing a brutal drug dealer and human trafficker and his three closest accomplices in a known Yakavetta safe house the Saints had come across the three thugs in a truck parked outside, dismembering a man’s body readying it for disposal and, as they were short on time and low on ammunition, they had managed to slip unseen to the back of the van and slam the doors, locking the men inside. Connor had tied off the door handles with some of the rope he insisted on carrying on every mission. He could still hear Murphy cursing him out for his so called obsession for rope as they drove the van to the nearest precinct leaving it parked outside. With the evidence against them overwhelming the three men had been given long jail sentences and now they were standing in front of a cornered, injured Connor.   
The men advanced, slipping into the small cell and Connor’s heart sank when the guard on duty quietly closed the door behind them. As they moved closer, trapping him against the narrow bunk he noticed the green flashing light of the camera mounted high on the wall. As he tried to defend himself from their feet and fists his last thought before blacking out was he hoped Murphy never had to see the footage of his death, whilst at the same time praying his twin was still alive to do so.  
Angelina smiled as Murphy’s head flew up, his eyes angry as he glared at her.  
“My Ma’s got nothing to do with any of this” he snapped “leave her out of this” His voice was loud and furious but Angelina noticed the hint of fear that edged it.  
“Your mother seems to be a wonderful woman” she said softly “her language is somewhat colourful but she clearly loves both of you dearly” She rose from her crouched position and waited, wondering how long it would take for him to realise exactly what she had implied. It took mere seconds.  
“What do you mean?” he demanded “You don’t know her”  
“Not yet” she whispered as she leant down again, her breath ghosting his cheek. “But I will very soon”  
She straightened, turning gracefully as he struggled to free himself.  
“Once we discovered who the Saints really were it was easy to find your mother. All we had to do was pay someone at the phone company and your calls were monitored. It was simple to find the number you called most often, then trace the address it was registered to, even one in Ireland”  
Angelina turned to Dante and Marzio with a smile.  
“They’re good sons, they call their mother at least twice a week” She spoke in Italian once more.  
“That’s how it should be. A son should always call his mother” Dante replied. “I don’t like this part of the plan; do we have to go through with it?  
“It saddens me too, but we have to avenge my father’s death. They have to suffer as my mother and I did”   
Angelina faced Murphy once more.  
“I called your mother. She thinks I’m a good Irish catholic girl called Erin. I told her I had come from Ireland two years ago to work as a live in nanny for a wealthy family in Boston, caring for their two beautiful children. I told her that 8 months ago my sister called me to tell me my father had passed away suddenly. She believes that in my grief I went to a bar and had too much to drink, and there I met the two of you”   
Angelina paused, watching Murphy as he fought and cursed, trying to break his bonds.  
“As far as she is aware, in my grief stricken, drunken state I made an error of judgement and spent the night with Connor. She was so excited when I told her about the baby, so furious and disappointed in him when I told her he wanted nothing to do with me or his child. She thinks I called her in desperation as I didn’t know what else to do. Apparently my employers fired me when they found out I was pregnant and I had nowhere to go. She believes I tracked her number down and called her to ask her to speak to Connor on my behalf. She refused to do that as I expected”  
She gave him a beaming smile.  
“As we speak your mother is on a plane on her way here, she will be landing in a few hours and Erin will be waiting for her at the airport. It will be time for me to don the green contact lens and red haired wig again and this time with some added well-placed padding. I will bring her here and the two of you will be reunited”  
Her smile faded and Murphy froze, her expression sending a chill down his spine  
“Then you will learn what it feels like to see your parent slaughtered in front of you as you watch me put a gun to her head and pull the trigger”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone reading this taking the time to comment.
> 
> All conversations in Italian are meant to be in italics but it seems it's it doesn't always publish that way, so any conversations between Angelina, Dante and Marzio are in Italian and they don't realise that Murphy understands every word they are saying.
> 
> chapter 6 up very soon

Chapter 5

Connor opened his eyes cautiously, surprised to find he wasn’t dead. For a moment his head span as nausea rolled over him and he lay still until the feeling passed. He tried taking a few deep breaths, gasping at the pain that flared in his ribs.   
The bunk above him creaked and instantly he tensed, not sure what to expect. A man swung down, landing lightly on the ground, dropping to a crouch at his side.  
“Pleased to see you’re awake” he said in heavily accented English, “Would’ve been awkward telling Angel you was dead, she would not have been happy”  
Connor struggled to sit, swinging his feet onto the floor as he tried to stand. The man effortlessly pushed him back.  
“Stay sitting, you’re in no state to stand and where do you think you‘ll go?” he asked as he dragged a chair to the bedside before flopping down onto it.  
“I’m here to make sure no one gets any ideas about taking you out” He waved his hand over Connor’s battered body. “What you got there was just a taster if what’s to come when we’re ready”  
“Who the hell are you, who’s this Angel, where’s my brother?” Connor ground out, angry, frustrated and confused.  
The man smiled as he rested his feet on the edge of the bunk.  
“So many questions, lucky for you Angel told me I can tell you what you want to know” The man pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one up and offering it to Connor before taking a second for himself.  
“First things first, you can call me Dave and for now I’m your guardian angel. There’s a lot of pissed off people out there want to get their hands on you and I’m here to make sure that don’t happen” Dave sat back and took a drag on his cigarette, blowing out a perfect smoke ring before continuing.  
“As for who Angel is – that’s an easy one. She’s you and your Brother’s worse nightmare. You gunned down her dad right in front of her and her mom, now she wants payback and unluckily for you she has the money and resources to get what she wants. She’s spent tens of thousands of dollars tracking the two of you down, bribing the right people and getting you where she wants you. Now she wants you both to suffer. You got any idea who she is yet?”  
Connor shook his head.  
“Killed a lot of low life scum, don’t remember doing any in front of their family. We tried not to bring wives and kids into it if we could help it” he frowned “only time I can think of was in the courthouse when we killed Yakavetta, his Ma and son were there but he didn’t have a daughter”  
Dave smiled slowly.  
“Yeah, that’s what most folks thought” he grinned “turned out Pappa Joe had himself a woman on the side and got her up the duff. Angel was the result. She was kept secret to keep her safe ‘till she was old enough to bring into the family business. For the last few years she’s been working in the organisation, learning the ropes from her father, getting ready to help her half-brother Concezio take over when Joe died. Two of you made that happen a little earlier than everyone expected”  
Dave stubbed his cigarette out, grinding the butt under his foot.  
“Didn’t you wonder why there were so many more meetings set up in public places in the last few weeks? Why deals were suddenly being done openly in bars, coffee shops and diners, instead of hidden away in safe houses. What you didn’t know was that every meet was being watched, just waiting for the Saints to make a hit. You made your move then her men followed you. Didn’t matter to her you took out the five guys at the meet, they was just collateral damage. Tracked you back to some Irish dive bar, from there it was easy to find out where you lived, what church you use, where you bought your smokes every day, everything. To be honest I’m pretty disappointed you made it so easy” he rose stretching his back as he moved further away from the bunk.  
“Your brother had to play hero, thought he was the knight in armour charging in to rescue the beautiful damsel in distress when in fact he killed three men who thought they were being paid to lure a cheating ex-boyfriend into an alley to rough him up a bit. They weren’t even told he’d be carrying a gun, more collateral damage but it worked”  
Dave reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a bulky envelope, tossing it to the bed next to Connor.  
“Gonna go get something to eat while you take a look in there. No one will come for you; the door will be locked and guarded”  
He nodded to the envelope.  
“Enjoy” he smirked, slamming the cell door shut behind him.  
With shaking hands Connor ripped open the small package and tipped it up. His heart sank as Murphy’s Rosary landed on the bed; he knew his brother would never part with it willingly. Several photographs slithered out scattering over the blanket. Connor saw several shots of McGinty’s and Doc and several more of the Church he and Murphy attended. There were shots of Dolly, Duffy and Greenly as well as one shaky, blurred picture of Smecker as he left the bar one evening. More pictures showed both him and Murphy as they went about their daily lives. There were even pictures of them with the two drunken girls they had escorted to the wine bar a few days earlier. Connor wondered just how far this Angel woman was prepared to go to get her revenge.   
The last item was a smaller sealed envelope and he tore it open reluctantly. It contained just two photographs, the first causing a moan to escape his lips as he saw his mother, clutching a bulging duty free bag as she boarded a plane clearly bound for America. The second was worse. He saw Murphy, bound to a chair in the middle of a small room, his body slumped forward as far as his restraints would allow, his head hanging low. Two men were standing over him, one clutching a large bladed knife the other holding a pair of pliers, both with wide smiles. To one side was a stunning looking woman, tall and slim with long, dark hair, with the sort of looks that would stop conversations when she entered a room and drive a man to distraction. She was looking straight at Murphy and her hatred was clear, marring her perfect features. Suddenly Connor realised he was the lucky one, being in a maximum security prison full of people who wanted to kill him was going to be a piece of cake compared to whatever this woman had planned for his brother.   
Murphy lifted his head, narrowing his eyes at the two men standing in front of him, refusing to show just how much he was already hurting. So far they had done nothing worse than punch and kick but he knew that was about to change. A wheeled hospital trolley had been bought into the room and Dante had unpacked the contents of his bag. Murphy watched as he pulled out knives, pliers, saws and what appeared to be several surgical instruments, laying them out on the table next to the TV, checking each one carefully before setting it down, humming a cheerful tune as he worked.   
“Angel!” Antonio burst into the room “this has arrived from the prison, you should watch it before you leave for the airport” He waved a small package in her face “also you need to put the news channel on – make sure he can see it”  
Angelina reached for the remote control and found the right channel. Antonio dragged the chair closer to the screen and gripped Murphy’s hair, forcing his head up, giving him no choice but to look at the images playing out in front of him.  
A reporter stood on a familiar looking street, several fire appliances behind her, fire fighters desperately trying to control what was obviously a raging inferno.  
“The arsonists struck just after the last worshippers had left morning mass. Two masked men armed with several petrol bombs forced their way into the Church of the Saints in South Boston. Father Douglas McKinney was knocked unconscious when he tried to stop the intruders. He was found dazed but unharmed on a bench several hundred yards from the premises. Police believe the arsonists placed him there shortly after they had set the church ablaze. Firefighters at the scene say it is unlikely they will be able to save the building” the reporter paused and the scene on the TV changed to a recording of another burning building.  
“This is the second well know property in the area to be firebombed in the last 24 hours. McGinty’s Irish bar was set ablaze in the early hours of this morning. The whereabouts of its proprietor, known locally as Doc are unknown at this time. It is believed that he was in the building at the time of the attack. Police say there is no way anyone inside could have survived the inferno” The reporters voice faded as Angelina lowered the volume, turning to Murphy.  
“It would seem nothing you care about is safe, everything you hold dear is being destroyed. You and your brother will live long enough to see all you love taken from you then you will both die. At the end you will be alone and scared and begging for death”  
She smiled again as she pulled a cassette tape from the package Antonio had given her.  
“Let’s see how Connor is getting along shall we?”  
With Antonio forcing his head up Murphy had no choice but to look at the screen, he tried to close his eyes but found he couldn’t look away. The tape showed Connor in a cell, backed against a bunk as three men advanced on him. Murphy watched, Angelina’s delighted laughter ringing in his ears, as his brother was brutally beaten and kicked into unconsciousness, the three men leaving him in a bloodied heap on the cell floor when they had finished. He fought back the angry, frustrated tears, cursing his helplessness as he twisted in Antonio’s grip trying frantically to free himself, needing to get to the beautiful, laughing, insane woman in front of him. The twins had always said that the Saints would never kill a woman or child but Murphy knew that if he got the opportunity he wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between her eyes.  
“Don’t worry, he’s not dead yet. We have to keep him alive long enough for your father to get there” Angelina reached out and tenderly brushed a tear he didn’t know he’d shed from his cheek.  
“Connor also has to know what it feels like to lose a parent. As soon as your father sets foot on American soil he will be arrested and taken straight to Hoag. His death will be far slower and more painful than your mother’s; after all he did help to murder Guiseppe. He needs to pay for that”  
She turned on her heel, heading for the door.  
“Now I need to become sweet, Irish Erin as it is time for me to head to the airport. You’ll be seeing your mother again very soon”  
She paused by the two men.  
“You can do what you want to him, just don’t kill him yet and don’t touch his face. I don’t want the last thing his mother sees to be his damaged face. We can do that for her at least” Angelina spoke softly to Marzio and he nodded in agreement.  
Antonio let go of his hair, shoving his head forward roughly as he followed the woman, leaving Murphy with Dante and Marzio. He had never felt so helpless or alone in his life and let his body slump down in the chair, all fight gone.  
Dante picked up a pair of pliers, studying them intently as he approached the restrained, dejected man.  
“Have they had any luck finding Il Duce yet?” Marzio asked in Italian, unaware the captive understood every word, as he took his expensive jacket off and began to roll up his shirt sleeves.  
“Not that I know of” Dante replied “If anyone knows how to stay hidden it will be him. I’m not even sure Angelina will be able to find him unless he wants to be found”  
“We better hope she does, he will not be happy if we kill his sons and their mother. He will seek vengeance of his own. That will not end well for any of us” Marzio replied, a hint of fear in his tone.  
Neither man noticed the small smile that briefly crossed Murphy’s lips, the way he suddenly pulled himself straighter in the chair.   
Maybe there was hope after all.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet (or not)  
> Let me know what you think and please don't hate me.

Chapter 6

Annabelle MacManus scanned the crowd waiting in the arrivals hall at Logan International airport. It didn’t take her long to spot who she was looking for. The heavily pregnant red haired woman stood out from everyone around her and Annabelle took a second to study the woman before making her way over.  
“You must be Erin” she smiled, unable to take her eyes from the stunning woman’s bulging stomach “and that must be my wee grandbabbie to be.  
The young woman’s eyes filled with tears.  
“Oh Mrs MacManus” she sobbed “Thank you so much for coming; I didn’t know what else to do”  
“Hush now dear” Annabelle enfolded the sobbing woman in her arms “it’ll all work out. And less of the Mrs MacManus. By the time I’ve had words with that son of mine, you’ll be calling me Ma”  
As she let the older woman hold her Angelina smiled, everything was falling into place and soon her revenge would be complete. All that was left to do was find the twins father and she had every confidence that was only a matter of time.

 

As he opened the door to his apartment Paul Smecker was suddenly aware of a presence behind him. Before he could even reach for his gun a weight slammed into him and he was shoved face first against the wall, a strong arm on his back holding him in place. A gun was pushed against the back of his head, the muzzle digging painfully into his scalp.  
“You want to tell me where my boys are, you sorry son of a bitch?” a familiar voice snarled in his ear.

 

Detective Dolly was returning to his car at the end of a long shift when the bullets slammed into his chest, hurling him back against his vehicle. As he slid to the pavement there was a brief flash and he got a glimpse of a shadowy figure lowering a camera. The figure bent over him and as his vision began to fade he heard a distant voice.  
“The Yakavetta family send their regards” 

 

Greenly was waiting impatiently at a stoplight, fingers drumming on the steering wheel in time to the soft rock ballad playing on his radio. He had just enough time to see the lights of the other vehicle as the semi ploughed into the side of his sedan, sending it spinning across the intersection. The battered car mounted the pavement and slammed through the plate glass window of a pharmacy before coming to rest under a pile of broken shelving and their contents. Greenly tried to release his seatbelt but it was jammed tight. He blinked the blood from his eyes, suddenly noticing just how much his head hurt. A flicker of movement caught his attention and he watched helplessly as a shadowy figure picked its way through the debris. The figure reached his vehicle, leaning through the broken driver’s side window.  
“This is from the Angel” he smiled as he stepped back and raised his gun. Greenly closed his eyes as the gunshot rang out.

The take out coffee container slipped from Duffy’s hands as his head was yanked back and the blade drawn swiftly across his throat. As he stumbled forward, hands clawing at this neck, desperately trying to stop the unstoppable flow of blood a soft voice murmured in his ear.  
“This is for Pappa Joe”  
The blade slipped easily between his ribs, piercing his heart and he was dead before he hit the sidewalk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably a really dumb question with an obvious solution but can anybody please tell me how to upload pictures onto this site. I draw my own cover art for fanfiction.net and would love to post it here but I've been unable to do so. I'm not the most computer literate person around so would really appreciate the help. 
> 
> If you would like to take a look at my work please check out my facebook page - www.facebook.com/mistyeye2015  
> Thank you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all those who read the last chapter. Hope you are still enjoying it, please leave a comment, I'd appreciate it.  
> All conversations between Dante and Marzio are in Italian

Chapter 7  
By the time Dave returned to his cell Connor’s pain and despair had been channelled into a burning anger. The second the man stepped through the door Connor was on him. He had the advantage of surprise and managed to get several hard punches in before Dave could even start to retaliate. For a so called guardian angel it appeared Dave was prepared to fight dirty. He aimed for the already injured body parts, mainly Connor’s ribs and face but Connor was in a blind fury and fought through the pain. Dave managed to seize his broken wrist and wrench it back; causing the damaged bones to grind against each other, and Connor gave a pained yelp. Taking advantage Dave shoved him to his knees, pushing him face down against the bunk, a knee in his back to hold him in place and, still twisting the damaged wrist, he forced his arm behind his back.  
“I’m meant to stop anyone killing you, that don’t mean I can’t get someone in to rough you up a bit more. Or maybe I can go get one of those sick freaks that’s got other plans for you. You know they got men in here even I think should go to the chair for the stuff they’ve done, you want me to introduce you to them?” He gave Connor’s arm a final, violent twist then released him.  
“You think your brother will want that to be his last memory of his beloved twin? “ Dave nodded to the camera “You do realise he gets to see everything happens to you don’t you?”  
Connor rolled over, sinking to the floor, his back against the bunk. He cradled his arm against his chest and stared up at the camera, trying to reassure Murphy he was hanging in there, that it was all okay, that they would be fine. He knew he wasn’t even convincing himself.  
“You’re meant to be seeing what happens to him as well but we’re having some problems getting the tapes in here. Got some more photos for you though” Dave threw a stack of 8 x 10 glossy photos on the floor at his side. The top one showed a burning church that Connor recognised immediately.   
“Don’t worry, the Priest’s fine. Even Angelina would think twice about killing a Catholic Priest” Dave reassured him “The old man in in the bar, well that’s a different matter”  
Connor moved to the next photograph, biting his lower lip to keep in the moan of despair when he saw the burnt out shell of a building barely recognisable as McGinty’s.  
“Doc” he whispered, the sudden pain in his chest no longer caused by any beating as he thought of the man he’d known most of his life.  
He let the rest of the photographs slip from his fingers, unable to look at any more of them. As they hit the floor they scattered and the images he unintentionally saw turned his stomach. He saw Duffy lying on a sidewalk in a pool of blood and spilt coffee, he saw Dolly leaning against the side of a car, the three bullet holes in his chest obvious against the stark white of his shirt and finally he saw a grainy image of Greenly’s car smashed up and half buried in a store front.  
“That last one is taken from a security camera, the police turned up before our man could get a photo but he still had time to put a bullet in your cop friend. All we have left to get now is your pet FBI Agent and that’s all under control”  
Dave shrugged “Told you Angel wanted payback, she’s determined to destroy anyone and anything you two ever cared about. Your mom’s on her way to the house now, where Angel plans to kill her in front of Murphy. It’s only a matter of time before we get your Pa in here and you get to watch him die”   
Connor lifted his head and stared at the camera again. This time his expression was cold and hard.  
“I’m gonna get out of here and I’m coming for you, bitch!” he promised “You best be ready to spend the rest of your life running, ‘cos I will find you and I will kill you”  
He heard Dave laugh out loud and flicked his gaze to the man lounging against the wall.  
“I’m going to kill you first” He said it with such conviction that Dave actually believed him for a few seconds before the reality of Connor’s situation set in.   
“Of course you are” he smirked “I’m already scared”  
Before Connor could reply the door was flung open and a grinning, skinny man hurried into the cell.  
“You got to bring him right away” he nodded at Connor, his grin widening. “They got him, they got Ill Duce!”  
The taste of blood filled Murphy’s mouth as he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself crying out as Dante dragged the heated blade across his stomach again. The smell of burning flesh filled the room as Dante exchanged a look with Marzio.  
“Not a sound, I’m impressed” he glanced down at the man strapped to the hospital trolley “He’s stronger than he looks”  
Marzio nodded in agreement as he selected a sharp bladed scalpel from the table.  
“Let’s see how he likes this” He laid the blade flat against Murphy’s cheek, the point almost touching his eye.  
“You know we’re not meant to touch his face yet” Dante reminded him as he used a blow torch to reheat the wide bladed knife.  
“I know that” Marzio dragged the flat side of scalpel down Murphey’s face, under his jaw and down his throat “but he doesn’t” He trailed the scalpel down the restrained man’s chest, suddenly flicking his wrist and slicing the blade deep into the exposed flesh. The sudden pain caused Murphy’s back to arch up from the trolley but he held back the moan that tried to escape.  
He’d lost all track of time since the two men had pulled him from the chair and forced him onto the trolley. He fought back hard but it had been a couple of days since he’d eaten or drank anything and his weakened body had been unable to stop them slamming him down on his back, quickly restraining him with leather straps on each wrist and ankle. His tee shirt had been cut away and they had begun their torture. Both men were clearly skilled at what they did and took great enjoyment in their work. He knew they were disappointed he wasn’t screaming and crying and he was determined not to give them that satisfaction. He grit his teeth as Dante pressed the hot blade to his skin once more, the hiss of burning flesh loud in the room.  
“Still nothing” Dante wasn’t deterred “I think we need to try something else” He dropped the knife and picked up a large pair of pliers.  
“Let’s see how loud he howls when we remove his fingernails”   
Murphy could only watch helplessly as Marzio grabbed his restrained wrist, forcing his index finger straight as Dante positioned the pliers and began to pull. The pain was excruciating as his fingernail was ripped from his finger. He tried to breathe through the pain but as Dante moved to his ring finger and repeated the procedure he was unable to stop the scream of agony that ripped from his throat.  
Annabelle looked at the expensive limo that Erin had lead them to, the driver sliding out and holding the rear door open for them.  
“What’s this?” She asked puzzled as Erin elegantly slid into the seat, scooting across to leave room.  
“Please Mrs MacManus, it would be best if you came with us quietly” Erin gave her a sweet smile as she patted the plush leather seat next to her “Especially if you want to see your son again”  
Connor was lead out of the cell block into a labyrinth of corridors usually reserved for staff only. His hands were cuffed behind him again and Dave had a firm grip on his arm. He kept his face impassive, hiding the fact that he was terrified. If they really had got his father then he knew all hope was lost. The skinny man lead them down identical corridor after corridor. Finally he stopped outside a closed door.  
“We just have to wait a moment” he said.  
Dave shifted, tightening his grip on Connor’s arm.  
“What we waiting for?” he asked just as a loud explosion ripped through the air.  
“That” the skinny man pushed open the door and ushered them through. They found themselves in a small yard, a fire appliance parked nearby. Two men in fire fighters uniforms stepped forward and at once Dave tried to back away, dragging Connor with him.  
“What the fu…..?” he started but a third man slammed the butt of a rifle into his head and he dropped motionless to the ground, dragging Connor with him.  
Connor rolled over, trying desperately to regain his feet and keep an eye on the men as they approached him.  
One of the firefighters held a gloved hand out  
“Need some help there?” he asked, his amusement evident.  
Connor couldn’t help the bubble of laughter as he saw Smecker grinning down at him from under the oversized helmet.  
“Always wanted to play dress up as a firefighter” the Agent quipped, giving a little twirl “does it suit me?”  
“You look so damn good right now I could kiss you” Connor finally found his feet.  
“Ooo! Promises promises!” Smecker pouted, striking a camp pose.  
“You want us to give the two of you some privacy or are we getting out asses out of here?” One of the other men pulled the cuff keys from Dave’s pocket and freed Connor’s hands. Connor stared in shock at Greenly’s bruised face as he flashed him a small grin  
“Explain everything later but we need to get out of here right now” With the skinny mans’ help Greenly manhandled Dave over to the fire appliance. Between them they bundled his unconscious body into an equipment locker and closed the door. As Connor pulled on another uniform he saw Smecker hand the skinny man a thick brown envelope before he slipped back inside the prison.  
“Co-operation costs! Smecker shrugged as he bundled Connor into the back of the appliance, climbing on behind him. The uniformed man Connor didn’t recognise started the engine and pulled the vehicle out of the yard. As they approached the front of the prison Connor saw scenes of chaos.  
Two cars were burning in the visitor’s car park, explaining the explosion, and there were several other appliances and fire fighters at the scene. Alarms were screeching from other cars and from the prison itself and men in guards uniforms were trying to keep track of everything that was going on. The driver pulled in alongside the other vehicles and they waited. Eventually the car fires were under control and all but one of the appliances were sent away. Once they were clear of the prison the driver peeled away from the convoy and eventually depositing them near an old empty factory. Quickly they stripped off the borrowed uniforms, dumping them on the seats as Dave was pulled from the locker.  
Connor helped Greenly drag the groggy man along behind the Agent as they made their way to the factory building. As they approached a roller door slid open and Connor saw a dark figure lurking in the shadows.  
As they got closer the figure stepped forward and Connor gave a sigh of relief.  
“Hello Da” he grinned.  
“Son” Noah nodded in greeting as he studied his boy, reassuring himself he was okay. His gaze drifted to Dave, awake enough now to know just how much trouble he was in. He started to struggle as he was tugged deeper into the darkness of the factory interior.  
Noah pressed the button to close the door, turning to follow, his steps unhurried as he ambled after them.  
“Let’s see what this sorry sack of shit can tell us about your brother’s whereabouts” he commented as he pulled on his thick leather gloves and advanced on the cowering man.


End file.
